


Violet Rise

by Cenodoxus



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, F/F, Female Friendship, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 23:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18041423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cenodoxus/pseuds/Cenodoxus
Summary: Jaina can't tent but gets what she wants out of a Horde emissary. Vereesa can't diplomacy but is successful with small-scale infrastructure projects. No one ruins the tea.A one-shot that expands on a moment referenced in my previous fic, "Topside." Might add a naughtier chapter later, because what the hell, they're already sharing a tent.





	Violet Rise

**Author's Note:**

> In-game, the completed Violet Rise appears instantly after the assault on Shaol'mara, but realistically it would have taken them a few days or weeks to get to that point. Set after the Alliance/Horde landings on the island but before contact is made with the Shado-pan.

“Dozens of the world's best mages, and nobody can keep the water from running into the tents.” A disgusted Vereesa let the sodden tent flap down and turned to look at Jaina, who was bundled at her desk with a pot of tea.

“Well, we _can_ ,” said Jaina. “It just means more energy and mana, and upkeep on the wards is taking everything we've got at the moment. Nothing here's going to matter if we get overrun by saurok in the first week.”

“Jaina, you know I love you, but that's the problem with thinking like a mage. You shouldn't need magic to fix a problem that could have been avoided by just _not_ putting up a tent in a low-lying area with bad drainage.”

It had been a long day. There were no permanent structures on Violet Rise yet, and a contingent of mages specializing in infrastructure had gotten bogged down when a water main burst in Dalaran. They'd all agreed it wasn't a good idea to leave the Rise unguarded, so the senior leadership, Jaina included, had moved their belongings off the ships and were making do with a series of hastily-erected tents. When Narasi asked Jaina where she wanted her own put up, she'd been too busy with the perimeter to have anywhere specific in mind, and gestured vaguely at an area she thought would be out of the way.

Vereesa had insisted on moving out of her cabin as well to set an example for the Silver Covenant troops, though Jaina suspected it had just as much to do with being seasick even at anchor. There was a shortage of tents, so she'd offered to share hers. Vereesa had instantly seen its deficiencies as a campsite, but was too polite to say anything about it the first few days. Then the rain started.

Jaina blew on her tea. “I can port us to a better site in a few minutes. Just need some energy. And, well, a place to go. Might take some time because it's getting dark.”

“Not necessary.” Vereesa had extracted a dagger from her trunk, pulled her hood up, and marched out of the tent. “I mean, yes, we should definitely move in the morning, but right now I just don't want us sleeping in the middle of a stream.”

She used the point of the dagger to loosen a few rocks on the incline leading to the tent, and then shifted them further up to create a makeshift dam. The pommel she used to gouge tracks on either side of the dam, directing the incoming flow of water around the tent rather than into it. She disappeared from view, and Jaina heard the rasp of steel on stone and some cursing in Thalassian, and guessed that another drainage point was being willed into existence behind the tent. She used the intervening period to set two lit braziers on the floor, hoping that they would help things along a little.

A much wetter and dirtier, but clearly satisfied Vereesa emerged a little while later. “Better. Still not a place I'd pick to camp, but we'll be dry.”

Jaina held out a cup of tea, having reheated the pot. “Here. Job well done.”

“Thanks.” Vereesa drank half of it in a single gulp and sat down on her cot to remove a sopping hood. The tent had been roomy for a single person, but was a tight fit with an extra bed, chair, and Vereesa's trunk and gear. Jaina usually sat at her desk to give Vereesa more room to move around in the back. Before Kalec, she hadn't shared a bedroom with anyone in years, and he was away so much that most of the time she still didn't.

If there were any established protocol for sharing living space with the widow of the man who'd sacrificed himself to save her life, she didn't know it. As with the campsite mistake, Jaina never really felt she was doing anything exactly right.

“I'm sorry,“ she said. “I should have thought of this before.”

“No, I'm just moaning. You've had too much to think about since getting here anyway.” Vereesa poured herself another cup. “It does make me remember something, though – an old tradition we had in Quel'thalas. Ages ago there was some battle with the Amani on the southeastern border, and there was a regiment of mages and priests that got separated from the main body. They'd won their little section of the forest, but then they died to exposure afterwards when their mana reserves ran out. Ever since then, all the magisters in Silvermoon were required to take trips out to the farstrider lodges once every few years for a training session. They'd have to make a shelter, find food, and cook it – all without magic.”

“It's not a bad idea.”

“No. But they were terrible at it.” Vereesa smiled. “It's funny, but only in hindsight. Every one of them had a farstrider assigned to keep an eye on them for the week they were there and we all hated it. I've seen toddlers pick up the basic principles faster than 300-year old elves.”

“You get so used to using magic that you can lose sight of how to do even simple things normally,” Jaina admitted. She had, after all, lit the braziers with a snap of her fingers earlier. “I'd guess the problem's a lot worse if you've done it that way for hundreds of years.”

“Humans are better about it.” Vereesa quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “And trust me, that's hard for _any_ elf to admit. I thought it was just Rhonin at first, but it wasn't. You accept change faster and deal with it better. But I think magic is just so central to elven society that they just couldn't see the point. Asking them to start a fire without magic was like asking them to do it without any hands. Just pointlessly difficult.” She looked down. “Probably not a surprise what happened when the Sunwell fell.”

Jaina shifted in her chair, not sure how to respond, but was saved when Vereesa swallowed the rest of her tea and went on. “Right. Absolutely no disrespect intended to the Kirin Tor, but yours isn't the only tent in a bad spot." She tapped the map on Jaina's desk. “We're in a good defensive position, and once we've got more people we can start seeing to comfort rather than need. I expect you just don't want to expend resources on the former at present.”

“That's actually what I'm most worried about,” Jaina said. “I don't have a good handle on whatever we might be facing here, and I need the wards at full strength, which means everyone contributes. But I also need everyone to have at least one good fight in them at any given time, which means not over-extending on anything that's not a priority. But I'm not sure I'm hitting the right balance.”

“We'll be fine eventually.” Vereesa set her cup on the little table between the beds, and started peeling off her wet clothes. “The first days in a new camp are always the hardest.”

Jaina looked away quickly, wanting to give her her privacy. “So, um … how many tents need to be moved?”

“Not sure.” Vereesa's voice was muffled as she pulled her surcoat over her head, flinching as the wet linen slithered over her neck. “I think Nasari did a pretty good job organizing the camp overall. It's just a few here and there.”

Jaina leaned back in her chair and looked at the cluster of tents on the Rise, and the swamp stretching beyond it. The island as a whole seemed to exist in some pocket impervious to normality. It was never fully light or dark; both time and climate seemed to be a crude copy of whatever the time and season were supposed to be elsewhere in Pandaria. The initial run of good weather they'd enjoyed on landing was, they'd learned, an anomaly. More frequent was the rain, and always, always the lightning. It arced around the island ceaselessly. Jaina had grounded the hippogryphs after losing most of the small contingent they'd brought with them, and the first thing they'd done was set up three rods to attract and absorb any strikes around the camp. A certain amount of her vigilance toward the wards was being driven by sheer paranoia; there was something oppressive even in the air here. The Horde troops they already knew were quartered on the other side of the island were only a small part of it. She couldn't shake the feeling of a malevolent eye on them, always and just barely controlled.

“Are you okay?”

Jaina turned back to Vereesa, who'd stripped to a thin cotton chemise, and glanced away. “Yes, I'm fine. Just wondering if anyone else out there is soaking wet but doesn't want to say anything.”

“If they are, they'll move.” Vereesa shrugged into leggings and a fresh shirt, one that seemed a little big for her. Even with her curves covered, she still had the lithe grace that seemed the birthright of all elves. Jaina always felt clumsy and inelegant around her.

Vereesa paused. “I'm sorry. I should have changed elsewhere. This was very presumptuous of me.”

“No, it's okay.”

“It's not.”

“Well, I mean.” Jaina grasped her mug just to have something to do with her hands. “I just didn't want you to feel as I were staring. And you didn't do anything wrong; you're used to living cheek-by-jowl with people in field camps.”

Vereesa gave her a small smile. “Actually, I'm not. Lireesa Windrunner's children didn't share tents with the rank-and-file.”

“Oh.” Jaina wasn't sure what to say.

“It's more that … I don't know. Since having children, I've gotten a lot less self-conscious, and not always in a good way.” She looked down at herself, her cheeks pink. “I didn't really have any privacy when they were little, and now I don't think about it even when I need to."

Vereesa was usually never this chatty, and had grown even quieter after Rhonin's death. It occurred to Jaina that maybe she wasn't the only one who felt awkward.

“You don't need to at all,” she said. “Please don't worry about it. Here.” She picked up the teapot. “Have another cup. It's too early for supper, but once I've gotten a little more energy back, I'll do biscuits for us.”

Vereesa's ears twitched and she stiffened, looking over Jaina's shoulder past the edge of the Rise. Jaina turned but couldn't see anything at first.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Pandaren in Horde colors.” Vereesa stepped to the back of the tent and quickly started buckling on her gear.

“How many?”

“One.”

It took Jaina another moment even to see the movement, but eventually he came into focus. It was Li Feng, a Horde mage, cutting a sodden path through the marsh. In kinder times, he could have ported directly to the entrance, but these were not kind times. Communication between the two sides on the island was necessary but dangerous, with words and spellfire flickering hot over the damp ruins. Finally Lor'themar had started sending exclusively pandaren emissaries, and Jaina felt a grudging respect for the cleverness of it. Everyone involved knew the diplomatic risk of injuring or imprisoning a pandaren in their own land, and the pandaren had little investment in Dalaran's internal politics.

Vereesa, now fully armed, melted into the shadows behind her. Jaina sighed. “Honestly, I don't think that's really necessary.”

“I don't trust any of them, and neither should you.”

Li Feng had reached the entrance to Violet Rise and bowed to the guards stationed there. One of the guards turned to Jaina and she nodded, so Feng was allowed to pass onto the Rise. Jaina conjured an additional cup, added a fresh spark to the braziers, and then pulled Vereesa's chair to the front alongside her own.

The exhausted pandaren finally made his way to the tent, noting Vereesa's damming effort with obvious interest before side-stepping it. He bowed, rain dripping off his hood. “Lady Proudmoore. I believe it is traditional among humans to say 'I hope the day finds you well' or something to that effect, but I think it is obvious that the day finds none of us well.”

“I'm afraid not. Can I offer you some tea?”

“Yes, I would enjoy that very much, thank you.” One of the things Jaina admired about the pandaren was their total honesty about anything related to food and drink; they did not engage in the back-and-forth that humans did, refusing something they wanted just to be polite. Feng accepted a steaming cup and did not even bother to blow on it. He took his seat with a groan and stretched his legs out. Water had soaked up to the knees of his robe, and both his hem and sandals were thick with mud.

“I hope you didn't walk the whole way here,” Jaina said.

Feng guffawed. “No, I teleported most of the way – there are too many annoyances in the swamp for my tastes – but I'm afraid I landed in the middle of a flood plain.” He finished his cup, and unashamedly held it out for more. “Very good. I must admit, we are not used to many outsiders making a good pot of tea. Most of the time you ruin a perfectly serviceable brew by gunking it up with cream and sugar.”

Jaina had to laugh. “I got a lecture on just that subject when I visited Halfhill. I asked for a little milk in my tea at a vendor's stall. I think I'd have made her less upset if I'd asked for blood.” It was actually one of the Tushui monks, now fighting in the train of the Silver Covenant, who'd showed Jaina how to make jasmine tea properly.

“Ah. It is my impression, however, that the teas in the east are different, and many of them do benefit from a little milk or sugar, yes?”

“Definitely. Where I come from, a lot of milk in your tea is pretty standard.”

“Pandaria's are quite different.” His eyes crinkled. “ _Oolong_ especially. The black dragon demands to be taken on his own terms.” He finished his second cup, and Jaina refilled it. “Now then. It is not our way to be hasty about business, but it's getting dark, and nothing on this island improves with less visibility.”

“Of course.”

“First: We've grounded our dragonhawks because of the lightning, and as no one's seen your hippogryphs in the air lately, we assume you've done the same.”

“Yes.” Jaina saw no point in refusing to concede this. It was obvious to all concerned that no transport or fighting via air was possible at the moment.

“If any solution is found to the lightning issue, we will of course inform you before putting the fleet back in the air.”

“The Kirin Tor will reciprocate.”

“Thank you.” He inclined his head. “Second, if it's all right, we would like to extend our lines into the swamp a little on a very temporary basis.”

“How temporary and where?”

“Long enough to deal with a crab infestation on the beach southeast of us. They're far more aggressive than any of us expected. Unfortunately for the crabs, they also look delicious.”

This wasn't Jaina's first day on the job. She thought it very likely that the Sunreavers had already done it and were merely requesting “permission” after the fact for diplomatic politesse, or to provide cover for further scouting. At the same time, she had no serious objection, though she could almost feel the waves of irritation radiating off the still-hidden Vereesa. “Fine.”

“Thank you. Third, we've learned that the Shado-pan have a small camp west of the Emperor's Gate. We have not yet made contact, but plan to do so.” Feng was watching her carefully.

“I wasn't aware of this, but thank you for letting me know. The Kirin Tor will also send an emissary.”

“We expected that. The Sunreavers will not attempt to use the Shado-pan to sway the balance of power on the island.”

 _As if they would let you_ , Jaina thought, but kept her face neutral. There had been a faint note of warning in his voice; he was expecting reciprocity. “Of course. The Kirin Tor will not actively encourage a close relationship, and I don't think Taran Zhu's likely to pursue one, but I can't speak to anything beyond that. They see your warchief as a danger after the Divine Bell incident.”

“I … can understand that.” Feng paused, obviously considering whether to say something further, and evidently deciding against it. “Well. That's everything. Is there any message you would like me to convey to Lord Theron?”

“I hope he enjoyed his crab.”

Feng threw his head back and laughed. “They were very good! Unfortunately, we discovered after the fact that Lord Brightwing is allergic to them. What a nuisance! But I'm afraid I must be going.”

“I'll attune you to the current wards so you can go straight back. I'm afraid I can't allow you or any of the other Horde representatives to port directly _to_ Violet Rise for obvious reasons, but I don't want to risk your safety on a return trip at night.”

He bowed. “Thank you. I am very sorry that circumstances are so difficult at the moment. I hope to meet under better ones in the future.”

“As do I.” She meant it, mostly, but there was a part of her now that never would. It took only a second to find the incantation necessary to allow him to leave, and he bowed again before teleporting away, his eyes kind and a little sad.

Jaina refreshed the wards with a different equation before returning to her desk, and heard the sound of an arrow being returned to its quiver. “Vereesa, it's all right.”

Vereesa emerged, eyes fixed on the arcane steam emanating from Feng's departure. “None of this is all right. And the humidity's terrible for the bow.” She dropped her quiver on the cot and began to unstring the bow. “I don't know why you allow this. Jaina, I know it's almost an instinctive response for you to go with the diplomatic solution, even after everything that's happened, but I don't see what's being accomplished with all this chit-chat. You're just giving a Horde visitor an opportunity to see our defenses and get information. And I thought you knew about the Shado-pan camp.”

“I do,” said Jaina. “But I don't want the Sunreavers to know that I know. I suppose that's an answer to your question in its own way.”

“Mmm?”

“You're not wrong. The Horde is absolutely going to use its representatives to gather intelligence on what we're doing here. We do the same with our couriers. Ming's certainly told us everything she saw over at their camp.”

“It doesn't sound like you're disagreeing with me.”

“I'm not, at least not about the central point.” Jaina shrugged. “But I'd rather have them keep coming here, because I always learn something they wouldn't necessarily have wanted to tell me otherwise.”

“That we can kill Halduron Brightwing by slipping some crab into his food? Because that was the only point of interest I got out of that conversation.”

“No, the crab thing was fascinating. We already know about the beach southeast of them.” Jaina tossed her the map. “Garcia scouted it earlier. There are sandbars and reefs all over the place in that little bay that make it impossible to anchor any ships.”

“Right,” said Vereesa. “There's also no access to the palace complex from that side of the island anyway, unless they want to climb the wall, which is suicide. And you can't mount artillery in the sand.”

“Exactly. The beach doesn't have any real strategic value. They could have left it alone, but they didn't. They went after a food source. What that tells me, or at least suggests, is that the Sunreavers don't have an easy or quick replacement for the Dalaran portal network, and they're having problems establishing supply lines."

“I have to admit, I hadn't thought about the portals.”

“That's because that's _my_ job,” Jaina smiled.

“I guess I deserve that after giving you shit about the tent.” Vereesa pulled her boots off with a loud thump, and threw herself back on the bed. She looked up at Jaina. “Do you think Horde leadership's cut them loose?”

“That's what I've been wondering. Lor'themar was negotiating the possible re-entry of the blood elves into the Alliance not that long ago.” Which she, of course, had scuppered without even being aware of it. God, she still wanted to punch Varian for his decision not to mention that. “He can't be happy about what's going on, and I have difficulty believing Garrosh hasn't picked up on it.”

Vereesa waved it away irritably. “Letting the blood elves back in would have been a mistake.”

“Maybe. But it's pretty clear that the Horde has a lot of internal divisions at the moment, and I don't think Lor'themar's getting the help he needs.” She finished a quick note to her lieutenants about the meeting, and added, “Not that I plan to let him win here just because I feel sorry for him.”

“Anything else underneath all the diplomatic-speak I should know?"

“Not really. The first part was standard; they're just trying to prevent an air war in case the lightning ever clears up.”

“I think that's going to be an entirely academic issue.”

“Probably. The crabs we've talked about. The third part's also a little interesting. I think Feng was actually telling the truth about that – that they haven't made contact with the Shado-pan. He was more interested in seeing whether _we_ had.”

“And you didn't give him that information.”

“I hope not. I have no problem with the Sunreavers thinking we have less insight into what's going on around here than we actually do.” Jaina set her quill to make multiple copies of the letter, and turned away from the desk. “So out of letting the Horde emissary come, he's getting information I know Lor'themar's going to get no matter what – namely, the layout of the camp and what we've got here – and in return, I give him bad information about our intelligence network, and get a window into business they wouldn't necessarily have wanted to share. So yes, it suits my purposes to have some tea with Li Feng.”

“Don't be so sure. By now, Lor'themar also knows you pitched your tent in a puddle.”

“I'm never going to live that down, am I?”

“Not while I'm alive.”

“I'll just have to put up with it,” said Jaina. Her stomach growled audibly. “Though not without food. We're on our own for supper; meal service won't be up and running for another day or two.”

"That reminds me." Vereesa rummaged around an interior pocket in her oilskin cloak, and tossed a bundle of greens onto the desk. “I still have rations from the ship, but I also found some chickweed and lamb's quarter while I was out scouting today. It won't be fancy, but you don't need to conjure anything.”

“I have energy.”

“Don't bother.” Vereesa pulled the little table out from between the two cots. “Let's just eat and you can get some rest, Jaina.”

In the end, Jaina did insist on conjuring a loaf of bread to go with supper. They turned the desk into a makeshift sideboard and ate dried fish, Vereesa's greens, a chunk of smoked cheese, a handful of nuts and dried berries each, and two pastries Jaina had bought in Halfhill that turned out to be filled with almond paste and melon. Jaina poured the last of the tea and relit the braziers. They pulled the two chairs together to the entrance of the tent and sat, wrapped in blankets, watching the rain. Vereesa, seizing any downtime she could get, waxed a fresh bowstring and fletched arrows.

Mist rose above the marsh to join the clouds in the sky. The lightning continued as relentlessly as it always had, but where the clouds were sparser, an ocean of brilliant stars lay beyond. Jaina thought, not for the first time, about how often the world's most beautiful landscapes coexisted with such malignant and restless evil. Lei Shen had probably watched the same sky; she did not understand the desire to conquer it all, rather than simply enjoy it for existing. Then she thought of another night with someone she cared for under the same sky, and how it all ended, and shuddered.

Vereesa looked up. “I hadn't thought about it before, but Pandaria's far enough south that a lot of the constellations are different.”

“They are. I should read up on it. The ones I _can_ recognize are all upside-down.”

“You can always just look up and try to learn that way instead of grabbing a book.”

“I could, but it gives you something new and exciting to make fun of me for.”

 

* * *

 

She didn't remember dozing off, but woke to something brushing against her hands. Vereesa had slumped forward, asleep with her head on Jaina's shoulder, still clutching arrows with the feathered ends poking ahead. Jaina carefully moved them away and rested her cheek on Vereesa's head, wondering if a different set of stars was enough.

 


End file.
